


Metaphorical Sun & A Realistic Addiction

by funhaus (sixthirty)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, GTA V - au, Gen, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, i may forget to tag something so heres a warning, the freewood is minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 02:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11614395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixthirty/pseuds/funhaus
Summary: the low hanging light in the cold basement was his solitude, a metaphorical sun in the nightmare he was trapped in.





	Metaphorical Sun & A Realistic Addiction

**Author's Note:**

> hhaha this just started with me wanting to write a scene abt CCTVs, a gav drug addiction, n a lil backstory for the fakes abt a yr n a half ago. also, title sucks, sorry.

The CCTV crackles to life as the static clears out, the grainy video feed showing a figure slumped over in the chair. With his arms and legs tied to the chair and stretched in an uncomfortable position, it looked as if he was barely breathing, the slow rising of inhalation almost a phantom if you weren't looking hard enough. His back was torn up, the shredded muscle and flesh mess barely visible in the feed as the blood drips down in a steady flow filling the covered floor with even more red. There was really only one person who it could be. Overall, it was a horrendous sight.

Another figure steps into the view, holding up a sign as 2 more roughly pull Gavin back by his hair. Gavin only goes limp in their grip. 

_Hi Ramsey. You know how it goes. Enjoy this…nightly video stream until you give me what i want. Good news, its all live too._

The words are barely readable as he steps back, bringing the 2 guys who are currently dragging a knife into Gavin’s arm as they feed some liquid into his system into the main focus. The main figure smiles again. He waves for a few seconds before the feed cuts out, the last thing on screen being Gavin as they drop him onto the dirty, bloody floor with a medic coming in the last millisecond, the room falling into silence. 

“Geoff,” Michael breaks the silence, turning towards him. “Wh..what are we gonna do?” Geoff inhales sharply, shutting his eyes tightly as he tries to calm the shaking. Jack places her hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer and addressing the others. “Well, B-Team is checking for the source right now, but we still aren't exactly sure where, all we know is hes still in the state.” Jack said as she squeezed Geoff's shoulder one more time before pulling her hand away. A few minutes passed before Geoff spoke up. 

“The only thing we can really do right now is wait for the actual live feed to start, it’ll be easier to find the signal then. For now we just…check in with contacts, check in with fakechop or fakehaus. maybe they know something.” He sighs and steps out after, a nonverbal action of ending the meeting. 

Over the next 5 minutes everyone cleared the room. Michael Ray and Jeremy left together, michael mumbling about a drink or something. Jack smiled tiredly at Ryan not long after the lads left and stepped out too. When Ryan left, he barely gave the room a glance as the front door shut with a resounding click. With Gavin gone, they all felt a little lost too. 

...

The Fake AH Crew is one of the most feared crews in Los Santos. While no one knows who exactly is in the crew itself, _everyone_ knows who makes up the main crew. You have Geoff Ramsey, kingpin front and centre. With high hopes and morals that are rare in this type of life, hes made sure Los Santos is aware of his dreams to reach the top of the bloody food chain. He really wasn't your typical crew leader. He doted on his crew members, cared for them and trusted them with his life. He wasnt harsh on them when it wasnt needed, treated them with as much kindness as a dirty criminal, murderer, whatever they labeled him, could. Whenever you see Geoff, you're bound to see his right hand man not far behind.

Jack Pattillo is most certainly one of the kindest criminals in the state alone. She is Geoff's right hand, the best pilot LS has seen and one of the most dangerous. Her pilot skills almost seem godlike, somehow able to smoothly fly any air vehicle no matter how crazy the heist has gotten out of hand. She's won most of the drag races that the underground racers have hosted, her skills in land vehicles just as amazing as her pilot ones. Jack is marvelled at constantly, everyone amazed at the fact that she can keep up with Geoff, that she can support his dreams, that she aims just as high as Geoff does. Jack Pattillo, under a unanimous agreement, is a legend. 

One of the scariest things about Geoff is the fact that he has some of the most feared criminals at his beckoning. Gavin, The Golden Boy, Vav, Ramsey's frontman, his puppet, his lap dog, whatever you want to call him, was probably as dangerous as the vagabond, if not more. While no one knows his true past, or why he left England, no one really knows why people keep underestimating him. With knife skills that seem supernatural and with his vast knowledge in science, languages and other subjects, gavin was powerful in both mind and skill. His preference lied within his gaudy gold SMG and 2 knives—a switchblade and a butterfly knife. He had the vast void of the internet at his beckoning, his hacker skills one of the most superior within him. He had this ability to talk his way out of things, to get people to agree before they even realised, to get people to do what he says, being ramsey's frontman and all. There was coldness in this man, something sinister and pure violence and viciousness deep inside hidden under layers and layers. You only see what gavin wants you to see, and if you see more than you're allowed to— well, its a little too late. 

Mogar makes up half the heart of every explosion. His specialty lies within every grenade, C4, claymore, whatever, that he throws. He was probably the closest thing to the walking definition of pure fury that coarses through his veins. He was reckless and carefree with every action he made. Michael knows of the consequences with the wrong choices he makes and does not give a single fuck about it. He packs a hard punch, dealing insults every few minutes and isnt afraid to show it. He's made dozens of people piss their pants just by yelling at them. He's made the minigun look easy, hauling it up and around as if it was a pebble. Michael can fight hand-to-hand combat just as easily if needed. Pure fury and a hint of jersey to his voice. If theres an explosion, there is no doubt that michael is probably the source of it. 

Rimmy Tim and his gaudy colour scheme is the other heart. Boston runs deep in his veins as he escaped the viciousness of the underground fighting ring after a bet gone wrong before he caught the eye of Ramsey himself. Him and Michael are most definitely fighting people off towards the end of most heists, making the others flinch with how hard they punch if they caught a glance. He wasnt as tall as the others, but his glares and intimidation made up for it. Jeremy was definitely a wild card, most of his abilities have yet to reach the light of day. Like Gav, he can be laughing one moment and serious the next, switch flipped in the blink of an eye. Simmering fury sits in his stomach lowly, waiting for the flames to flicker just high enough when needed. No one really knows Jeremy's character. Maybe they shouldn't. 

The Brownman's pink sniper is the omen of death. Quick and clean, in and out. His skills were far more superior within the crew, calm character definitely playing a part. He is a ghost, a shadow in the dark. No one really sees the kid, a phantom on its own. He knows of every roof top, the best spots to let everything go. His laidback personality kind of a reputation within the mainstream of hired mercenaries, known for being calm and cool, never taking drastic measures when something goes to shit. If theres one thing that is frightening about Ray, its the scary accuracy that is within the sniper rifle. Ray is a ghost. A phantom with a pink rifle that everyone keeps an eye out for. 

The thing that surprised Los Santos the most was how easily the vagabond joined the crew. Turning down crew offers was almost second nature to the black skull of death, a feared mercenary known for the terrifying ways of torture that few survived. Even after joining the fakes, He was, and still is, one scary motherfucker. The unrelenting support from his crew members made him all the more terrifying. It was obvious in the way he made sure the crew was safe during heists gone wrong that he cared just as much too. With new changes on the horizon, most of LS figured that the vagabond would probably turn the world upside down to keep from losing the crew.

...

The Fake AH Crew is one of the most feared crews in Los Santos. While no one knows who exactly is in the crew itself, _everyone_ knows who makes up the main crew. So while everyone knows who makes up the main crew, _everyone_ feels the impending doom and destruction when one of them gets taken. Fury runs deep into the earth as the storm gathers on the horizon, death clawing at the crust and fire singeing the flesh as a warning of the oncoming destruction. 

Los Santos holds its breath as night creeps into the sky. 

...

Gavin lost the concept of time long ago. It could be months, days, weeks, since he was snatched, it could even be a year. The low hanging light in the cold basement was his solitude, a metaphorical sun in the nightmare that he was trapped in, held tightly by chains and rope as he escaped further and further back into his mind. The pain was numb to him, a dangerous amount of dilaudid running in his system. He was addicted to the relief they brought on, numb to the multiple accounts of torture they've put him through. Blood covered his hair, clothes, and skin, half dried and half wet as he sits in the cold liquid that poured from his own body. Welts and burns covered his arms, bruises of all kind every where else. A ring of purple circled his throat as he breathed, a small wheeze present if it was silent enough. The voices in his head tore him apart, he meant nothing, a dirty thief at the end of his run. The cold crept in and grasped him tightly awhile ago, breaking down carefully placed walls and revealing the empty shell of a man who holds no empathy or remorse for a single person. It revealed the faux emotions he's perfected over years and the rawness of how much he truly didnt care for himself. Gavin was nothing. A waste of space with an ever growing addiction to dilaudid. The hourglass has a few grains left, and when the door opened once again, the flame went out and gavin filled with darkness. 

—

It takes 2 weeks to find a lead. in that time they sat through 14 days of torture to gavin and frankly, it was tiring and sickening. The crew runs on adrenaline, not anticipating the sight that will welcome them. The heist is planned within the hour, and by 2 theyre out the door and surrounding the warehouse. 

Mount Gordo sits ominously behind them, afternoon sun bathing the warehouse in shade. "I have eyes on 2," Ray says, voice cracking from the reception over the comms as they get into position. Ryan and Michael crouch behind a wall, waiting for the guards to finish making rounds.  
"theres some assholes over here, 4 in sight." Geoff responds. "Everyone in position?" At everyones agreements, Geoff says go and pulls the trigger. 6 men go down at once, hitting the floor all at the same time. Jack and Jeremy hop over the wall from the east side as Ryan and Michael get west, Geoff bursting down from the north. "Careful, 2 dudes to your left Geoff, right around the corner. i got blondie, you knife the other, on 3?" Geoff nods, and after ray's three they both go down. 

"Hey hey, we got four, five, six...ten dudes in this room, should i just toss one in?" Michael asks, glancing over the window sill as ryan keeps heading towards the south side. He looks around the courtyard incase of another as Geoff pops around the corner. "uh, yeah sure" Geoff inspects the room, ten dudes definitely guarding whatever closet door that must be in there. Michael grins, pulling a flashbang from his jacket. "Hey lil j, i throw a flash and you toss a grenade. sounds good?" Michael sees jeremy's enthusiastic nodding, watching him pull a grenade from his pocket. "Hell yeah dude! on three. _one, two, three!_ " They both toss it at the same time, the familiar feel of the explosion rumbling through the ground filling michael with joy. There was really no way in hell that michael was leaving without gavin. He was just glad that the crew was on the same page. 

the sound of gunshots pulled Michael from his thoughts as Ryan shoved himself through the southside window, gunning down the men who didnt die. It grew silent for a solid minute, ryan waiting to see if more men would pile into the room before giving the all clear to the others. "Uh, you guys can come in now." Within seconds all 6 of them gathered, surrounding a door at the middle of the west wall. They all glanced at each other before ray pulls the door open, stomping down the stairs with a pistol in hand. The smell of blood and rotting flesh filled the air immediately, the smell so strong they could taste the metal tang. Geoff grimaces as Jeremy holds back a gag. "Aw dude, the bottom of my shoes are covered in blood" Michael sighs, picking up his leg to look before jack shoves him foreward. Ryan glances around warily, listening for any sound until a voice stops him in his tracks. "Hey wait, shut up, stop talking" Ryan shushes everyone, the hallway filling with silence. Muffled by the wall, they could pick out a lone voice. "i cant hear anything hes saying." Jack says while pushing foreward to put her ear on the door. "No wait," Geoff whispers, tugging her backwards. "We breach the door. Ryan on one side, michael on the other. Jack and i will take behind ryan while jeremy and ray take behind michael. got it? good." Geoff pushes into position, glancing at everyone as they get ready to push in. 

 

"On 3. _one, two, three._ " The door basically falls of the hinges as the gang leader could barely turn around before falling dead to the floor. Gavin laid in the centre of the floor, covered in blood and bruises and infected whip and knife wounds and multiple bottles of liquid dilaudid knocked over and broken. His breaths were nonexistent, the only proof being the ripples in the puddle of blood that he laid in. His lips were cracked and his face was sunken in, obviously malnourished from the lack of food and sunlight. Gavin was a basically a dead man. The chaos of getting him out went by quick, one of them slamming the door behind them in their hasty escape to get him medical help causing the low hanging light to sway back and forth, gently into the evening.

back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

-

The dryness in his throat pushes him towards consciousness. Cracking an eye open, he glances around the dark room. the alarm clock showed 3:45 AM in a neon green, shadowed by a glass of water. Gavin drinks half of the glass, not really noticing how its sloshing around while glancing at the figure holding his left hand. Ryan sits in the chair, head tilted back as he snores quietly, holding onto gavin's hand as if it was his lifeline. Gavin shakes his head, only to realise how bad he's shaking. He figured the withdrawals wouldn't happen for awhile, but he wasnt that ready for them anyway. Everything hurt, his head, his body. Gavin was desperate for the relief that he got, but he knew that the crew must of seen the bottles of dilaudid around him. He craved the liquid, but is just as content with the morphine that was just injected into his IV. With promises to rebuild the broken walls so he wouldnt hurt his crew and reminders to buy dilaudid, he squeezes ryan's hand and lets himself fall back into the grasps of unconsciousness.

the rest of the water sloshes around in the cup, moving back and forth as the moon creeps forward to slowly begin to set for the awaiting sun. 

back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

**Author's Note:**

> ok fuck first off rays here because i wrote this awhile ago at like 4 fuckin am and i read it like yesterday n decided hey its good enough and bc i am NOT rewriting it without ray considering i dont even know why i did in the first place. second i plan to revisit this bc i want to venture off into the world of gavin suffering from an addiction as some big events gonna take place that i haven't thought of yet haha. this will have freewood! jus not rn! sorry if u dont like freewood. thanks for reading!! i hope u enjoyed it sorry for it being a mess.
> 
> i am cloudyahhhhh on tumblr if u wanna talk n stuff


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